


Call Me the Love Man

by Black_Hole_of_Procrastination



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Dirty Dancing AU, F/M, M/M, Mild Smut, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 22:45:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14199279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Hole_of_Procrastination/pseuds/Black_Hole_of_Procrastination
Summary: Jon's summer vacation in the Catskills takes an unexpected turn. Dirty Dancing AU. Jon is Baby...just go with it.





	Call Me the Love Man

He’s not supposed to be here.

It’s not just because guests aren’t allowed in the staff cabins (though that certainly is part of it).

No, Jon’s not supposed to be here because he _promised_. After weeks of dodging out of archery lessons and canoeing and rounds of tennis, he’d told his father he’d be at dinner tonight. Swore to it. And yet here he is, blowing off family dinner with some bullshit story about a headache.

Jon has lied to his father. It’s far from the first time this summer, but the guilt still sweeps through him afresh and heavy. He feels even guiltier for lying to Robb.

Robb’s been covering for Jon since the beginning, no questions asked, but Jon doesn’t miss the hurt in his brother’s face every time he runs off. There’s no secrets between them.

Jon wants to come clean to Robb, he really does, but Jon’s just not sure how he is meant to go about explaining all of… _this_.

“Fuck!” Val curses from above him. She is perched high on the dresser set in her cabin, her legs spread eagle and Jon’s head ducked between her thighs. Her voice is a little breathless, and she threads her fingers tightly into his curls.

“Again! Do that again!”

Val is as vocal here as she is in practice. She knows exactly what she wants, and she isn’t too shy to ask for it. Jon is eager to give it to her. Her brisk instructions send the same heat shooting through him as they do when they’re dancing. There’s something stirring in the knowledge that while he may be leading, she is the one who is truly in control.

Just like in practice, Satin stands behind Jon, but instead of patiently murmuring counts in Jon’s ear or correcting his posture, Satin’s mouth is occupied with pressing kisses into the exposed skin above the collar of Jon’s tshirt. It’s distractingly good.

Satin’s arms are far from the rigidity of a dance frame. One is braced on the edge of the dresser near Jon’s head and the other is wrapped so he can press a hand against the front seam of Jon’s jeans.

“Less lips, more tongue!” Val gasps with rough tug at Jon’s hair. Jon complies, feeling dizzy from the taste of her and ache building beneath Satin’s hand.

Satin must feel it because he presses closer, his hips flush against Jon. It should probably unnerve him, to feel another man hard against his back, but then Satin is rolling the heel of his palm against Jon and all he knows is he wants more.

When Val comes apart under his mouth, her hands leave his hair to steady herself on the dresser.

Jon rests his head against the soft give of her thigh, his mouth still slick with her, his cock still unbearably hard underneath the pressure of Satin’s hand.

For a moment, he can hear nothing but the sound of crickets beyond the screen door, the thud of the needle skipping over the record they had sat down to listen to ages ago, and the ragged sawing of their breathing.

“Not bad,” Val says at last, laughter in her voice as she leans against the wall, content and well-worked over. “But there’s room for improvement.”

Satin chuckles, his breath hot and warm against Jon’s neck. Satin idly runs a hand over the leg Val had hooked over Jon’s shoulder at some point in their tryst, fingers drawing circles on the outside of her knee.

“Shall we take it again from the top?” he teases.

_Gods yes._

 


End file.
